


Moderation

by taylor_tut



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Exhaustion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Parental Roy Mustang, Sick Character, Sick Edward Elric, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 22:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16072766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A drabble request from my tumblr for Ed being exhausted and sick but not wanting to go home until he's finished with his work.





	Moderation

Roy flipped out the lights in the office and was met with an indignant, angry squawk that could only have been characteristic of one soldier. 

"Fullmetal?" he called, the whole office so quiet that he could hear the sound of his coat crinkling as he reached up to the lightswitch again. 

"Don't bother with locking up; I'm here 'til at least tomorrow morning," the kid's voice rasped—he sounded like he'd been gargling rocks. Honestly, when he hadn't heard so much as a peep from Ed all day, he'd kind of assumed that he'd gone home to nurse the cold that he'd been clearly fighting for the past two days, but the fact that he'd been able to fly under the radar and not make a scene for so long was immediately concerning. 

"You should go home, Fullmetal," Roy suggested, making his way to Ed's desk and frowning at what he saw: empty coffee cups littered all around his workspace, tissues nearly overflowing from the trash can, a bunch of open books, and, in the middle of it, Edward Elric, clearly sick and exhausted. "All that caffiene will stunt your growth."

Ed rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath that caught in his throat and turned into a knife-sharp coughing fit. "Not funny," he bit, but the heat was muffled by the lack of energy, "and I'm fine."

"Rigtht," he ignored, "how long have you been working?" 

Ed shrugged, never once taking his eyes off the journal in front of him. "Dunno," he admitted, which was unlike the normally organized, meticulous boy. "All I know is that I'm not done yet."

"You look exhausted," Roy pointed out, "and you're clearly ill. Take a day off; those books aren't going anywhere." Ed shook his head.

"I said I'm not done," he reiterated, "and I'm staying 'til I am. You can feel free to fuck off, though."

Roy bristled at the harsher-than-usual language and at the second round of breathless coughs that ripped through his chest. 

"Go home, Fullmetal," Roy commanded in a no-nonsense, authoritative tone, "that's an order."

Ed glared pointedly at him, his eyes dull with lack of energy but his gaze still full of malice. "I don't care- I'm not stopping until I finish my work," he maintained. 

Roy sighed, feeling a headache blooming in its usual Edward-correlated spot behind his eye. "Why not?" he asked, almost wondering if he really wanted to know at all. "And why is your brother not here to drag your ass away from this desk kicking and screaming?"

Ed flushed, looked down at his hands this time instead of the books, the same direction but a different expression. "Al is in Resembool," he provided quietly, almost guiltily. "His suit got all messed up at the joints and he could barely move... So Winry is doing some repairs."

Ah, there it was. Ed was unchecked and feeling guilty for things that weren't his fault. 

"Well, while that's unfortunate, you can't use it as an excuse to run yourself into the ground, particularly while you're ill."

Ed rolled his eyes. "I'm not," he denied, "it's just a cold."

"Sure about that?" Roy challenged, tugging off a glove with his teeth when Ed hesitated and pressing his palm to Ed's forehead with a wince. 

He sighed. "That's a fever, Edward, and not a low-grade one, at that." 

Ed shivered, shrugged. "Oh," was all he replied.

"I'll drive you home," Roy said gently, "and you can come back when that fever breaks." Ed didn't move. "Come on, Ed; I've got better things to do than fight you on this."

"No one asked you to," Ed retorted meanly. "I actually think I asked you specifically NOT to."

"It's not like you'll be able to focus properly with a fever like that, anyway," Roy reasoned as if Ed hadn't argued at all, then watched him dig his palms into his eyes with steady, firm pressure. Like he was trying to alleviate a headache of his own. 

"I could call your mechanic," Roy threatened, "and see if she and your brother might be able to talk some sense into you."

At that, Ed stood, swaying slightly before Roy steadied him, and glared. "Bastard," he muttered, but he didn't complain again as he shrugged on his coat and followed Roy out the doors of central command and to the car. Ed was a pain in the ass sometimes, but it was hard to hold it against him when it was all for the person he cared about most. All the rest of them could do was just try to make sure he didn't collapse in on himself before he could save his brother. 

 


End file.
